


I bit off more than I could chew

by lillaseptember



Series: Time really moves fast [5]
Category: Check Please! (Webcomic)
Genre: Future Fic, Kid Fic, M/M, like just your regular taking care of a baby stuff - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-20
Updated: 2018-08-20
Packaged: 2019-06-29 22:25:28
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,476
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15738540
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lillaseptember/pseuds/lillaseptember
Summary: Pressing some light kisses to Chris’ head as he rocked him, Bitty’s hushing slowly drowned out his sobbing, and Bitty afforded himself a quick glance over at Jack. He had stretched out the worst kinks in his back, his posture now quickly crumbling in on itself, his own exhaustion finally catching up with him as his eyes drifted to a half-close.This man.





	I bit off more than I could chew

Bitty grinned as he climbed the steps to their front door.

It was late, _much too late_ , on a Saturday night, but he was too excited to be tired. He had just gotten back from the city’s annual small businesses get together, and it had been an undoubted success. Bringing a batch of his famed snickerdoodles, _not a bribe,_ definitely _not a bribe, he had left his bribing days behind in college_ , he had finally managed to convince the mayor of hiring _Tidbits_ to cater the city hall’s Christmas party.

This had been a project several years in the making, and it had finally paid off. _Tidbits_ was about to be the most renowned bakery in the whole city for an entire year, at least.

His gratitude over the success washed away his guilt over having all but commanded Alexis to stay at home for just this one year. Bitty loved that boy as if he were his own frog, but he was also more misfortune-bringing than Nursey. No, it had definitely been better leaving him at home to mope with Hannah and the second batch of snickerdoodles, than to let this chance slip out of _Tidbits_ fingers.

Yet again.

Bitty was about to bake until butter spilled out of his ears, but none of that mattered as he slid his key into the door and quietly pushed it open. He was too high on the taste of victory to care about much else.

That was, until he stepped into the warm comfort of his own home, and was met by the unmistakable sound of singing. His husband’s singing. In French, to be exact.

Jack singing was slightly out of the ordinary. This was far from the first time Bitty had ever heard him sing. But, when he did, it was usually the unconscious humming along to old, ancient, radio hits, or when he wanted to embarrass the kids by trying to sing along to an actual contemporary song.

Jack also wasn’t a stranger to lullabies. He had been singing Josué, Ana and Becky all to sleep at certain points in time. But then he had mostly kept to traditional English lullabies.

He had once told Bitty that sometimes, when he was a baby, the only way to get him to calm down was to have his mother sing to him in French. Bob, for all his many expertises and accomplishments, was quite the terrible singer. And Alicia even so much as _trying_ to sing in English often only ended with Jack becoming even more hysteric.

So Bitty frowned a little in concern as he stepped out of his boots and discarded his satchel, carefully toeing into the living room and toward the familiar melody but unfamiliar words.

Stopping in the doorway, he was met by the sight of Jack gently swaying back and forth, Chris haphazardly wrapped in a blanket and pressed tightly to his chest. His comforting baritone wove its way throughout the house, carrying on the soothing words of his mother tongue. But, there, underneath it all, was the faint whimpering of their little baby boy. 

Knocking softly on the doorframe, trying not to startle Chris but alerting Jack of his presence if he hadn’t heard him come in already, Bitty carefully treaded his way over to them.

“What’s going on here?” he asked softly as he reached out to run careful hand over Chris’ back.

Chris hiccuped a sob and burrowed his face even deeper into his father’s shirt, Jack letting his chin brush over his unruly hair as he hushed him quietly. Rocking him for a few more moments, he let Chris settle down a little before he looked over at Bitty.

“Stomach aches,” he finally said, and hugged Chris a little tighter.

Bitty’s chest suddenly filled with familiar concern, and he ran another hand over Chris’ shaking head. “Oh, poor baby.”

Chris, at five months old, was a reasonably healthy baby. No chronic diseases, no disabilities, and he had survived his first cold without any major troubles. But, his stomach.

His stomach had always been a cause for concern, but there was really no telling of what there was to be concerned _about_. The doctors had just told them that he had an incredibly fussy stomach, and that things would most likely sort themselves out soon enough. He just had to grow into it, is what they had said.

Which was easy to say, when they weren’t the ones having to comfort him whenever his poor little stomach decided to go on strike. Which was worryingly often.

But, if anything, at least Jack and Bitty were starting to learn how to best tackle it by now.

“Has he pooped?”

Jack nodded as he adjusted his hold on their squirming little baby, and then hushed him when he started whimpering again. “We gave him a laxative, so he’s cleared his system. But there’s still something that’s not quite right.”

“Oh, baby,” Bitty repeated, rubbing his hand down Chris’ back.

Chris snivelled some more, unconsolable in his discomfort, and Bitty’s heart constricted for him. To be so little, and in so much distress, and not be able to convey just what was wrong. Rubbing his head against Jack’s chest, he eventually turned to blink his dark eyes up at Bitty. They were red rimmed from crying, and his lower lip still wobbled worryingly.

Bitty smiled engcourangly at him, and then offered him his fingers. Chris played with his nails for the beat of a moment, and then grabbed onto his ring finger and held on for dear life.

Bitty let his own fingers roll over his tiny knuckles as he looked up at Jack. “What about the others?”

Jack was still swaying softly, and blinked slowly as he rested his cheek on top of Chris’ head. “The girls and Josué are hopefully asleep by now. Karim helped put Becky to bed.”

Bitty couldn’t help but smile. “Our hero.”

It was true. The Bittles would have long since gone under without Karim Amir Bittle. 

But, if Karim had helped Becky to bed, then-

Bitty frowned. “How long has he been like this?”

Catching Jack’s eye, he made sure that Jack knew he meant _How long has he been crying?_

“A while.”

“Jack.”

Jack shrugged one shoulder, careful not to disturb Chris. “Since dinner.”

Bitty let out a shallow sigh. “Oh, sweetheart.”

Not even he was sure of who he was more exasperated at.

Curling his fingers more securely around Chris’ hand, he tugged carefully, and was ready to hush as soon as Chris started to protest. “Oh, I know baby, but you’ve gotta let your papa get some rest now. C’mere, yeah, c’mere.”

Chris shrieked when Jack finally handed him over, his tiny little fist clenched in the fabric of his shirt so tightly Jack had to pry the fingers loose. Letting out a distressed wail as he was forced into the embrace of his not-so-preferred parent at the moment, Bitty was quick to curl a hand around his head and press him against his own chest, taking over Jack’s slow swaying and hushing.

Quietly praying that he hadn’t managed to wake _all_ of his siblings.

“It’s okay, baby. Yeah, it’s just dada. You’re just with dada. It’s all okay. You’re all okay.”

Pressing some light kisses to Chris’ head as he rocked him, Bitty’s hushing slowly drowned out his sobbing, and Bitty afforded himself a quick glance over at Jack. He had stretched out the worst kinks in his back, his posture now quickly crumbling in on itself, his own exhaustion finally catching up with him as his eyes drifted to a half-close.

_This man._

“I’m going to bed,” he said before Bitty could urge him to do that very thing. It was well past Chris’ bedtime, and at this rate, he wouldn’t fall asleep any time soon. They would have their hands full tomorrow morning. Jack would need all the rest he could get.

Nodding in acknowledgement, Jack managed a weak smile before he bent down for his kiss. Then he turned on his heels to shuffle up the stairs.

Chris let out a tiny, weeping sound once he noticed his papa was out of sight, but Bitty rocked him in a wider circle to soothe him. Brushing his lips over his head once he settled down.

“It’s alright baby. We’ve got you. Daddy’s got you. You’re going to be all okay.”

Chris snivelled as he pressed his tear-swollen face into Bitty’s chest again, and Bitty picked up on the tune Jack had been crooning. He didn’t even _try_ to vocalize any of the soft spoken French Jack had been soothing their crying baby with. Humming along to _My way_ in English would just have to do.

He wasn’t Alicia Zimmermann, after all.

A man could only have that many virtues.

**Author's Note:**

> I couldn't get the image of Jack rocking a baby while singing in French out of my head, and then this thing wrote itself.


End file.
